


Morning Coffee

by yespolkadot_kitty



Category: Night Hunter (2018)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Just smut, PWP, not beta read we die like men, unashamed smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-13
Updated: 2020-04-13
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:20:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23632237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yespolkadot_kitty/pseuds/yespolkadot_kitty
Summary: You and Marshall like your morning coffee.
Relationships: Walter Marshall (Night Hunter)/You
Comments: 2
Kudos: 29





	Morning Coffee

Marshall always woke up hungry for you, especially on mornings like this, when he’d come home late from a case, pulled you close and then snuggled into your sleepy form, dropping into a deep sleep himself.

You’d slide out of bed, bring back two mugs of strong, black coffee. He’d blink sleepily, blue eyes so bright in his face, and gratefully drink down the caffeine as sunlight streamed through your windows.

This morning, you set your own coffee aside after a few sips. Marshall was sitting up, the sheet pooling at his hips, his broad chest bare, the hair on it crisp, dark, curling wildly, like his hair. You loved the contrast of how dark he was against your plain white sheets, loved smelling him, cedarwood and coffee and soap, on your pillow when he was away.

“C’mere,” he murmured lowly, voice thick and scratchy from sleep, resting his empty mug on the bedside table. You went willingly, looping your arms around his neck as he lifted you into his lap. You let your fingers tangle in his wild curls, lowering your mouth to his, tasting the bitter tang of coffee on his smiling lips.

“Missed you,” he murmured between kisses, his hands sliding up your naked back, gently stroking in the rhythm he knew you loved. The bedsheet provided only the scantest of barriers between your bodies, and through the fabric the hot, hard length of him pressed heavy against your belly. You wiggled closer and he groaned into your mouth. Hearing that helpless sound from him always made you weak, knowing  _ you _ did this to him.

Marshall settled his hands firmly on your hips as you dry-humped each other lazily. You had all morning for this, so neither of you saw a reason to rush. You certainly did enjoy making the most of having Marshall’s body all to yourself.

You pressed your breasts into Marshall’s chest, abrading your nipples against his chest hair, making the most of the  _ delicious _ friction. Your husband quickly got the message and tipped you back, supporting you with his arms as he bent his head to lavish attention on you. You gasped out a breath as his tongue worked its magic on one nipple and then the next, teasing them to hard peaks. You rasped out his name, your desire to take things slow quickly evaporating.

He glanced up at you, his expression wicked, and flipped you both so you lay on your back under him, his broad body pinning you to the bed. He settled on top of you, positioning himself _just so_ , and the swollen head of him rested just at your entrance. You lifted your hips impatiently.

“Patience, sweetheart,” he soothed.

“No, thankyou,” you responded tartly, and he chuckled, kissing his way down your stomach, soft butterfly kisses that tickled as much as they ignited desire. You propped yourself up on your elbows, watching his head of springy curls move slowly down your body, taking his sweet damn time. When he parted your thighs and kissed your pubic bone, a curse slipped off your tongue. “Please,” you panted.

He grinned smiled wickedly again, his blue eyes dark in his earnestly handsome face, and set to work with his talented tongue. He parted you gently, licking softly at first, as if tasting a new ice cream flavour. You pressed yourself into his face, your breath coming in little gasps, as he really hit his stride, his tongue curving around your bud in all the right places.  _ There, just there _ \- and the orgasm shot through you like fireworks, your legs trembling on his shoulders.

As you came down from the high, Marshall moved over you, and you snaked a hand between your bodies to stroke his erection. He hissed out a breath as you fisted him, moving just the way he loved. He bent to kiss you and you tasted yourself on his mouth as he slid inside you, slowly, oh so slowly, until he was buried to the hilt. You wrapped your legs around his hips as he began to move, the friction  _ delicious. _ He nuzzled at your neck, the scrape of his beard heightening the sensations he was stirring inside you, and before you knew it, he was snapping his hips tight into yours, bracing himself above you with one hand, the other slipping down your body to strum another orgasm from you, before he emptied himself into you, crying out your name as he did so.

You stroked his back through the aftershocks, kept your legs wrapped tight around him as your hearts pounded together.

“Good morning, wife,” he whispered, panting, his head turned into your neck as he dropped a kiss on your pulse point.

You smiled, cuddled in, reaching for the bedsheet to pull it over you. “I should always bring you coffee in bed.”


End file.
